


Like A Feather Falling

by unsernameinuse



Series: College Rock Band [1]
Category: Justin Bieber (Musician), Little Mix (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Crushes, Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, no one is straight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 03:56:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 20,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13138575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unsernameinuse/pseuds/unsernameinuse
Summary: The one where Justin heads to school determined to change his trouble-making ways. There, he meets five boys, joins a band, and rom-com-worthy chaos ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hopefully unnecessary disclaimer that all of this is fake and i don't own any pop stars. title from "Unrequited Love" by Yuna.

When Justin first moves into his room, he doesn’t meet his roommate for a solid week. When he finally does, it’s because he’s shocked awake at four in the morning by something tapping on his window.

“What the fuck?” It’s freezing outside once he gets the latch unstuck, and a boy with a sheepish smile is hanging onto the ledge.

“Could you let me in? I’m freezing my arse off.” And that’s how Justin learns that his roommate is British. The second thing he learns is that he has disgustingly effective puppy eyes. Justin sighs and steps to the side, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand as about five foot ten of lanky boy comes scrambling into the room. Window boy turns on the desk lamp on what is apparently his nightstand and starts to kick off his shoes while Justin watches from his bed.

“Right,” window boy says. He peels off his jacket and holds out his hand. “I’m Harry. Harry Styles.”

Justin smiles at Harry's goofy but charismatic presence, his fears of having a douchey roommate evaporating. “I’m Justin," he hesitates before continuing. "Mallette. Or Bieber. Whichever .” He winces and wonders why he can’t just pick one and stick with it.

“Parents divorced?” Harry asks. Unlike anyone else who’s ever asked him that question, he doesn’t sound nosey, maybe just understanding.

“Yup.” Justin decided against elaborating. That wasn’t first-meeting information. No need to talk about how the custody battle was really more of a pissing match because his father hadn’t been ready for a kid anyway. Or how he was apparently ready for kids now because he had one on the way with whoever the fuck he was married to now. No need to talk about his mother and the drugs and the church and all the tears that had been shed in his house.

Nope. No point in broadcasting all his shit. Not right now, maybe not ever.

So they sit in silence for a few moments, Harry pulling out his phone and apparently going on Instagram, or at least that’s what it looks like from where Justin is sitting.

“So,” Justin says as Harry likes some girl’s bikini picture. “Why are you coming in the window in the middle of the night? And why haven’t I seen you before now?” Harry doesn’t answer for a second, and Justin wonders if maybe he was supposed to act cool and casual, like this was all totally normal. Too late now.

Harry stands up and starts stripping out of his clothes. He’s casual about it, but Justin doesn’t feel like dealing with his new roommates’ abs at four in the morning, so he glances away. “Well if I’m honest,” Harry says, climbing back into bed. “I was avoiding you. My roommate last year was a proper nightmare.” he flashes a guilty- but not that guilty- smile. “You seem alright though.”

“Oh,” Justin finds himself blinking at Harry’s honesty. “Thanks?”

“Yeah, night.” Harry reaches over and turns out the light with a ridiculous over-exaggerated wink, and that’s the end of that.

 

 

The third thing Justin finds out about Harry is that he’s cool.

Honestly, he should have guessed.

Straight up six in the morning Harry hops out of bed like he’s had ten hours of sleep, and Justin drags himself feeling like he’s had four. Harry grins at him and says “morning” and Justin gives him a nod, but otherwise they don’t speak.

He’s trying to find the energy to pry his eyes open when Harry steps out of the door and is mobbed by friends. Even sitting on his bed, Justin hears the calls of “Haz!” and “Where you been?” and “How’s Caroline?”. It makes him want to crawl back under the covers and never come out.

He remembers the last time he had a first day at school. He and Selena, a girl that would later become his best friend there, started the day by stealing scooters from the locker of confiscated items in the front office. Then they’d tore around the school on them until some teachers got up the guts to physically stop them. After that, he and Selena had been inseparable all through high school

But that’s not an option here, because he promised his family he wouldn’t blow this chance. He couldn’t. Not after his grandparents had raised the money and worked out the scholarship to send him here even though he’s always been shit at school.

Being on his best behavior feels like living in the wrong skin. He has no idea how to make friends this way, with no shared shenanigans and no comfort in who he is.

Not only is that his life now, but his roommate is a glaring reminder of it. Of course.

So he finds himself slinking out of the room behind Harry, skirting the expanding group of friends and admirers, and slipping off to class like he was never there in the first place. He gets the feeling he’ll have to get used to it.

***

“So the _great_ Harry Styles has finally deigned to join us!” Louis Tomlinson crows across the dining hall. Harry feels an involuntary grin crack his face.

“Tommo!” Louis grabs him into a tight hug and Harry grins into his neck.

“Haz!” He doesn’t know where Niall came from, but he’s being jumped from the back and suddenly they’re all on a pile on the dining hall floor, laughing. The people in the closest tables barely seem to notice. Everyone’s used to how they are by now.

“I’ve missed you guys!” Harry says as they struggle to sit up.

“Missed you too, mate.” Louis says fondly.

Liam drops to the ground next to them. “Are we eating down here today?” he asks, half-seriously because Louis’ done it before. Louis just laughs at him and then they kiss hello, probably for at least the fifth time that day. Niall and Harry roll their eyes.

Harry sees Zayn’s extra-tight jeans before he hears his voice: “I hope you lot aren’t expecting me to come down there.” he sniffs in a put-on posh tone, only seventy-five percent kidding.

“Just for that.” Louis says as a warning. He kicks his leg out and suddenly Zayn is tumbling to the floor. The group dissolves into laughter again.

“BOYS.” That’s a warning call. They scramble up and into their seats, still giggling.

“So, hey, Harry,” Niall says when they’re seated. “Jade told me that geeky Canadian kid’s your new roommate. S’at true?” Niall tries his best to sound casual, but Harry can hear the undertone of more-than-casual interest.

He smells blood in the water, grins and wiggles his eyebrows in Niall’s direction. “Why d’ya wanna know?”

Niall’s face turns bright red. He tries to play casual with a shrug. “No reason.”

“If you haven’t got a reason for wanting to know, maybe I shouldn’t tell you.”

“Fof fuck’s sake, Harry, just answer the question.”

“You answer mine first.” With that Harry takes a bite out of his sandwich. The rest of the table glances back and forth between them, Louis and Zayn smirking.

“Fine.” Niall cracks first. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees money change hands. “I saw him on move-in day an I think he’s cute, alright? Ya happy?”

“Aaaaw! Our little Nialler’s got a  crush!” Louis coos.

Niall’s face flushes a shade deeper. “I don’t! I don’t even know his name, for fuck’s sake.”

“It’s Justin,” Harry says with a half-full mouth. “Justin Mallette. Or Bieber apparently, but I’m obviously not gonna call him that. He’s my roommate. A bit geeky, but he seems okay. I’ll mostly be at Carolines, so. Feel free to drop by and seduce him any time you like.” He makes his wink as lewd as possible, just to see Niall’s face get redder.

“Shut up.” Niall takes a huge bite of his breakfast and refuses to look up until the conversation turns to the double date Louis and Liam are planning with Harry and Caroline.

“This couple shit _again,_ ” Zayn groans. “Niall!”

“Huh? What?” he has to tear his eyes away from where Justin has just entered the dining hall.

“You’re havin a lads night in with me while these idiots go out and be disgustingly romantic. Yeah?”

“Sure, mate.” Niall pretends to pay attention, but really he’s watching Justin as he walks in and chooses a seat at the back table. Logan Henderson and his group of nerds are holding court there but he sits apart from the rest. He has a book out, something with a bright cover, and he keeps pushing his glasses up his button nose. Niall really, really wants to ask him what he’s reading. Instead, he eats his food and daydreams about what casual excuse he’ll use to drop by Harry and Justin’s room later.

***

The school day goes _okay_ for Justin. Not good, not bad, but somewhere in the middle. On the heels of his epiphany this morning, he finds it hard to strike up a conversation without feeling incredibly awkward. Especially because people keep saying “You’re Harry’s roommate, eh?” and then, if they were admirers of Harry’s (almost all of them were) they would proceed to interrogate Justin about him. The teachers are okay, the classes are okay. Lunch at the less-than-popular table where no one bothered to pretend interest in him was…surprisingly nice.

By the time his last class, English, rolls around, he feels the old school feelings of extreme boredom and fatigue creeping up on him. He desperately wants to _do_ something, anything. Skateboard through the halls, annoy a teacher, burst into song at the top of his lungs. But he's trying to do better, so he doesn't do any of those things.

He chooses a seat in the middle, even though the back row and a guaranteed nap are calling his name. He’s pulling out a notebook and pen when a pair of tanned hands come crashing down onto his desk.

“Hello there!” chimes a high, cheery voice. Justin blinks up into a pair of squinty sea green eyes. His first thought is that this guy is really cute. His second, a few beats later, is that it’s has been silent for an awkward amount of time and he’s probably supposed to say something about now.

“Uh, hi?”

“I’m Louis, Harry’s best mate.”

“Hi,” Harry speaks up from behind Louis, and Justin suddenly realizes there are other people crowded around his desk beyond the glow of Louis’s smile. “Sorry about Louis, haven’t quite broken him in yet.”

“And you never will. Now then, you. Are you treating our boy right?” Louis turns his gaze back to Justin, who blinks again.

“I just met him last night, dude. So. Yeah, I guess?”

 

Louis isn’t getting much out of this Justin kid. The boy is peering over the edge of his glasses with a blank expression that suggests he’d like this conversation a lot better if it wasn’t happening. Frankly, he seems a bit dull, the way Louis suspects all people who care about school (excluding Liam) are.

 

For his part, Justin is still trying to wrap his mind around this Louis guy being a real person. He’s wearing tight red pants with a tailored blazer and tie. His hair looks windblown even though they’ve all been sitting in stuffy classrooms all day, his smile is blinding, and Justin is finding it a little hard to think.

It doesn’t help when he finally looks at the others Louis is introducing. When his eyes slip over the blonde and the athlete to focus on the thin brunette, his mind blanks out everything else.

This boy is the most beautiful person Justin has ever _ever_ seen, hands down. He looks like an angel or a superhero, flawless physique and an air like he has secrets. His eyes are bright and dark, his smile a little crooked. His skin is glowing golden and his tattoos are sharp and bright.

Justin wants to lick those tattoos and bite him all over, never mind that he’s never done either to anybody, and he doesn’t realize he’s slipped into a fantasy until Louis is saying “WELL IT WAS NICE MEETING YOU.” in an unnecessarily loud voice.

Justin realizes he hasn’t said anything to the other boys after Louis introduced them, and that he probably looks like an idiot. He flushes bright red and croaks out a “you too.” But Louis is already sweeping away.

Harry gives a tiny wave and scrambles after him, gorgeous angel on his heels and the buff guy at the rear.

Justin gazes after them mournfully, feeling like he’s just been run over by a truck. He wonders if that’s what falling in love feels like, or if it’s just an extreme level of thirst, the place you reach just before you die of dehydration.

"Hey there,"

Justin snaps back to reality. The blonde boy didn't leave with the others. He's just...standing there. Which is kind of strange considering how terribly that conversation went.

"Do you need something?" Justin asks.

The blonde boy smiles and speaks with a rolling Irish accent. "I'm Niall. Dunno if you heard that part, you seemed a little distracted just then."

"Yeah, sorry. Hey." Justin gives a pathetic little wave. He's tired, blindsided by attraction, and this is his first conversation with a potential friend since his personality went on lockdown. He's not sure what to say.

Niall doesn't seem to have the same concern. He slides into the desk attached to Justin's and asks, "What are you reading? It looks interesting."

Justin glances down at the book in front of him, confused. "It's the summer reading."

Niall makes a face that people usually reserve for finding their parents’ sex tape and Justin smiles in spite of himself. Niall looks genuinely scandalized. "I know, it's cruel and unusual."

"Exactly," Niall flashed him a bright, brace-laced grin. "Mr. Grimshaw is a great bloke and everything, but he likes to pick on our group for questions. Can you tell me what it's about?"

"Yeah, sure."

Before he knows it, their conversation is flowing naturally instead of stilted small talk. They're laughing about the plot of the book when their teacher-Professor Nicholas Grimshaw--runs into the room. He's fifteen minutes late and he glares at the class like he's daring anyone to say something.

"This fucking day," He growls. "Tonight I'm going to absolutely drown myself in liquor and none of you heard me say that." He drops his bag and coat onto his desk, takes a long drag from his thermos--Niall assures Justin it most likely contains booze--and then finally turns to face the class. "Okay, which of you brats actually did the reading?"

Justin dutifully raises his hand along with a few other students and then settles in to take notes and stare at Mr. Grimshaw's bright pink hair. The teacher doesn't call on any of the students that have read. He delights in teasing the kids who clearly have no idea what's going on, somehow getting them to learn in the process. As far as Justin can tell, that probably the only reason he hasn’t been fired yet.

Louis raises his hand to ask childish questions and Mr. Grimshaw promptly drops to his level, sniping at him like a toddler. They go back and forth until Harry distracts the teacher with fluttered eyelashes and an advanced, pretentious question. Then they spend at least seven minutes-Justin checks his watch-outright _flirting_ in front of the whole class.

Justin looks over at his deskmate in bewilderment. Niall just shrugs with a grin and keeps on doodling burgers. A few minutes later, he passes the doodle over to Justin, who doodles slices of pizza dancing with the burgers. He passes the paper back to Niall, whose face lights up. They spend the rest of the period passing doodles back and forth, Justin writing enough notes to get by and Niall seemingly absorbing the lecture without really listening. At least, he answers the questions Mr. Grimshaw throws at him with absolute ease, only smirking a little.

It’s only when class is dismissed that Justin sees how many people talk to Niall as he gathers his things. He’s friends with everyone in the class and after waving goodbye to Justin he joins Louis’ group waiting by the door.

“I see you got the mute to speak.” Louis says loudly in greeting.

Justin feels his face get red. He gathers his things in a hurry and escapes down the hall, missing anything Niall would say in his defense. He’s replaying the last forty five minutes in his head when he realizes that Niall, a popular guy, sat next to him for a whole class period when he could have sat with _anyone_ else, and didn’t ask to look at his notes once. This whole day has been surreal. He needs food and a nap.

***

“What did you get for number eleven?”

Zayn glances over at Liam’s notebook. “Same as you, just spelled better.”

Liam nods, checking off that one on his paper. “Good. Twelve?”

“Did you see the way he looked at me?” it was eight at night. Louis was holding court with Aiden, Jade, and Leigh-Anne in the common area. Harry and Niall were in the Cowell Music Hall practicing being rock gods. Zayn and Liam were studying in Liam’s room, because between him and Niall it was always spotless. Louis and Zayn’s room, on the other hand, was always a mess of food, video games, art supplies, and mountains of shoes.

Liam sighed. They had all gone the whole day without having this conversation and he had hoped to avoid it altogether. At least, until tomorrow.

“Of course I saw it,” He says, writing out another answer. “it was the patented i’ve-just-realized-zayn's-an-Adonis-and-I-desperately-want-to-shag-him look. We’ve all had it before, nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Yeah but…you know how it usually goes. Not to sound like a giant arse but when people get that look…”

“It takes them awhile to realize you’re a giant dork.”

“Shut up. I just don’t want Niall’s feelings to get hurt.”

“I think you’re getting ahead of it, mate. Niall’s got a bit of a crush but it’s not as serious as all that.”

“Yeah, alright,” Zayn says, but he doesn't sound convinced. All the same, he turns back to his homework. “What’d you get for fourteen?”

***

The next morning at breakfast Liam and Niall get there early, Harry arrives barely on time, and Louis and Zayn stroll in fashionably late and mooch off of everyone else’s plates. In other words, the usual morning routine. Louis and Liam make eyes at each other, Zayn and Harry flirt without intent, and Niall gazes dreamily at where Justin sits reading a new book.

“He’s so great,” he says softly, almost as if he doesn’t even realise he’s speaking. The others at the table trade _looks_.

“Really? Can’t say I see the appeal.” Louis sniffs.

 _That_ get’s Niall’s attention. His gaze snaps away from Justin to glare at Louis. “That’s not fair, you barely even spoke to him! An when you did, you were being so intimidating he could barely talk. He’s shy.”

“Oh, is _that_ what you think it is?”

“For fuck’s sake, Louis.” Zayn snaps.

“Babe, that’s a bit unfair.” Liam says quietly, hand on the back of Louis’ chair. Louis rolls his eyes but doesn’t deny it.

“What about this,” Harry says “You all come round to our room sometime. We can all get to know each other a little better. Louis, you can give him a second chance.”

The tense set of Niall’s shoulders relaxes. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Thanks, Harry.”

Harry smiles. “No problem.”

Niall goes back to gazing at Justin just in time to miss Louis’ muttered “Better give him some warning so we don’t catch him wanking to Zayn’s yearbook picture.”

Niall is still in a trance and doesn't hear but Zayn and Harry kick Louis anyway. Liam gives him stern eyebrows.

***

Harry is not at all surprised when Liam and Zayn corner him after breakfast and beg him to talk to Louis.

“He’s got to stop,” Liam says “Before Niall catches on and this gets awkward.”

“Why can’t one of you talk to him?” Harry protests.

“I’m too close to the problem.” Zayn holds his hands up.

“And he’ll just distract me with sex.” says Liam.

Harry sighs. “Fine. But he won’t listen.”

***

As soon as they sit down at their favorite picnic table Louis says “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I’m gonna tell you anyway.” Harry says.

“Go on then, get it over with.” Louis already looks deeply unimpressed.

“So basically, me an the boys think if Niall finds out his big crush likes Zayn it’ll really hurt his feelings-” he’s interrupted by Louis’ derisive snort.

“He’ll have forgotten this kid before that happens.” Harry never wins against Louis with words, so he just contorts his face to show skepticism. “Trust me. He’ll get over it. Just like he got over Amy last year, and how he stopped panting over Professor Buble last month. Now it’s like those two never existed.”

“Well if you’re sure,” Harry says mildly. He can see Louis’s stubborn wall isn’t going to crumble this time.

“I’m one hundred percent positive, d’ya wanna make a bet?”

“Not even a little bit,” Harry says. “And even if you’re right, you don’t have to be an ass about it.” but his voice is too fond to really portray rebuke.

“I don’t have to,” Louis agrees as he pinches the soft part of Harry’s arm and watches him yelp. “But I can.”  
+++

_Zayn: Did u talk to him????_

_Harry: he pinched me! i told u he wouldnt care_

_zayn: …_


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey,” Harry grins as he comes into the room, cheerfully throwing his bag in the general direction of his bed and not caring that it hits the wall and lands with half its contents underneath the bed.

“Hey,” Justin says back, not looking up from his guitar. He has to limit his exposure to Harry’s dimples or risk being sucked in by their magic power. Between Harry’s smile, Zayn’s everything, and Louis’s confusing mix of terror and beauty, he’s not sure how he’s going to survive.

“You play guitar?” Harry sets down his books, kicks off his shoes, and heads to his closet. He doesn't mention the mud splattered all over his clothes as he starts to change, so Justin doesn’t either.

“Yeah,” Justin says, continuing to pick a justin timberlake medley he’d  heard on soundcloud “It’s my dad’s guitar but I taught myself.”

“Really? Sick!” When Harry’s head emerges from a clean t-shirt his eyes are bright. “You know the boys and I have a band. An there’s tons of great musicians on campus, I could introduce-”

“I can’t.” Justin blurts. His hand has stopped playing without him telling it to, “It’s just, my scholarship. I don’t have time for...anything. I should probably be doing homework right now, actually.” he doesn’t move toward the pile of books and notes on his desk.

Harry shrugs and smiles, “Well, you know where I am if you change your mind.” Justin glares at the pile of books but goes to put his guitar away.

He’s trying to stretch his body an extra two inches so he can pull his book onto the bed without getting up when Harry says, with no warning whatsoever, “Zayn’s quite fit, don’t ya think?”

Justin feels his face get hot, like he’s been caught in a lie with a spotlight pointed straight at him and he can feel his heart rate picking up and  _ then... _ he’s falling off of the bed.

“Fuck.” he says from the cold floor. Harry throws his head back and cackles, half heartedly holding out a hand for him to grab. He waves it away. He thinks he might as well stay here on the ground. God. What is wrong with him? Why does just thought of Zayn fuck up his ability to exist properly? He groans from the floor and he can hear Harry chuckling. On the bright side, Harry finishes getting dressed and heads out to be social again, ending any possibility of further discussion

 

***

“He’s been cleaning for thirty minutes and the room wasn’t even dirty in the first place.” Liam is saying into his phone the next night.

“I can hear you muttering to Louis, tell him you’re a terrible spy.” Niall reaches up just that extra bit and gets the last bit of dust off the top of the window.

“He says I’m a terrible spy. Oh, shut up. You love me. Oh yeah? Fuck you too then.” Liam is smiling the entire time this exchange is happening and Niall wants to throw the duster at his stupid, smiley, in-love face.

“I’m going to Zayn’s to get away from your lovey-dovey bullshit.” He says. He’s loud enough to be heard through the phone so he’s not surprised to pass Louis in the hall. He rolls his eyes at him and Louis just shrugs.

“What can I say, your roommate’s fit.”

When he gets to the room, Zayn is waiting for him with the game controllers already out. Niall sits down next to him and sighs.

“How much time do I get this time?”

“Five minutes.”

“Not happening, mate.”

Zayn rolls his eyes fondly. “Fine, seven. Starting now.” 

Six and a half minutes later they’re deep in a game about the apocalypse or something and Niall is still rambling about Justin. 

“Time’s up,” Zayn announces, not bothering to hide his relief. “I’m starting to think you’re a bit obsessed.” 

Niall laughs. “Maybe a little bit.” 

They go on playing their game and the conversation veers to other things, like their music and their classmates. Zayn has completely forgotten about Harry’s roommate when Niall brings him up again.

“So what you think of him?” he asks.

“Hm? Who? Oh.” Zayn shrugs, not taking his eye off of the game. “I’ve only talked to him once. He seems shy, quiet, I don’t know.”

“S’that a bad thing?

Zayn shrugs again, this time with even less effort. “I don’t really know him, mate. Maybe it’ll be different at Harry’s tonight. I don’t fuckin know, can we play the game now?” Niall shrugs and they go back to the game.

***

“Don’t freak out.” Harry says as he opens the door a few hours later. Justin looks up cautiously from his last bit of homework to see Harry standing in the doorway with a huge grin on his face. Justin is beginning to suspect that past being adorable those dimples also don’t bode well for his sanity.

“Why would I freak out?”

Harry holds up bottles by the necks in one hand and a pack of beer in the other. “I brought liquor-”

“Dude!”

He uses his foot to swing the door open wider, revealing his posse of supermodels “-and friends.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Hi Justin,” says Niall. the nice blond. Thank God. The rest of them make his head hurt.

“Hey Niall,” he finds himself actually smiling and moving over to make room for Niall on the bed. Niall smiles back and makes himself comfortable. 

There’s a beat of silence where all the guys are trading looks and for a moment Justin feels his cheeks get hot. Was that weird? Was it too gay? Where else was he supposed to have Niall sit? Fortunately before he can get too deep into that line of thought, Harry is opening bottles and all the other guys file in, tossing out “Hey”s as they take places in the room. 

Liam plops down on the floor with his head resting on Harry’s bed, Louis takes Harry’s desk chair but scoots over and runs his hands through Liam’s hair, effectively answering Justin’s inner questions about them. Zayn stretches out behind Harry on the bed with his hands crossed behind his head and Justin tries very not to look at him at all. 

“You okay, Mallette?” Niall pokes him in the side playfully where he knows Justin is ticklish because of an unfortunate moment in class. Before he knows what’s happening Justin is engaged in half a wrestling match with Niall, bottles are being passed around, and the awkward moment has passed. 

Harry settles back on his bed, using Zayn’s body as a combination pillow/footrest. Zayn reaches back to crack the window despite the cold, rolls up a joint and passes it around after taking a couple of hits. In a  few minutes he and Harry are saying weird shit about the formation of the universe and Louis keeps reaching back to slap one or the both of them somewhere inappropriate. Initially Liam is disapproving about this, but as the night goes on he dissolves into giggles.

Louis and Liam just get goofy with a lack of sobriety holding them back, though Liam’s is markedly less physical about his. For a minute there’s some kind of free-for-all slap fest going on, which Niall seems content to watch from the sidelines and laugh raucously about. Then Liam and Louis decide kissing is more important than slapping other people’s genitals and they melt into a sweet but slightly sloppy and disgusting public display of affection. Harry and Zayn ruthlessly kick them apart and Niall just keeps laughing. 

Justin forgets completely about his homework. He drinks enough to get a little tipsy and finds himself laughing along with Niall. At one point Niall gives a big, drunk, barely intelligible speech to save Justin from the boy's’ painful-sounding ‘initiation’ plans. 

This reminds Justin why he doesn’t drink anymore, scholarship or no scholarship, because right then he could kiss Niall. Niall with his big blue eyes and his soft hair that keeps ending up in Justin’s face everytime he falls back laughing. He reminds himself sternly that he gets gayer when he’s drunk and Niall’s eyes really aren’t worth falling into. He doesn’t even want to look at Zayn, he thinks he might embarrass himself if he does.  

He follows Niall’s lead in this situation because he isn’t sure what else to do. It doesn’t escape him that he’s surrounded by a group of the coolest guys at this school. Zayn has just as many admirers at Harry does, they’re just less vocal. Louis has a troop of vicious theater kids that would die for him, and Liam isn’t captain of the football team but it’s by choice.

It makes him wonder about the fact that Niall has barely glanced at the rest of the guys all night. After all, by the laws of nature Niall shouldn't even be talking to him. Niall is cool, and not the bitchy kind like Louis or the bullying kind like the hockey captain at his old school. Niall is the  _ plays the guitar at midnight and nobody gets upset about it _ cool. Niall is  _ knows everyone on campus and can assemble a party in five minutes flat _ cool. Niall is fun and bright and probably knows how to act at parties and hold his liquor and hook up with lots of pretty girls. Niall is friends with the cool kids, friends with  _ Zayn.  _ Niall should definitely not be talking to him.

“Niall,” Justin announces loudly (maybe he’s had a _ liiitle _ more to drink) “you’re the fucking best, man. I mean it.” he points at Niall for emphasis but since he’s about two inches away (when did they get so close anyway? whatever) he ends up poking Niall in the cheek.Niall grins, delighted and Justin sees Louis and Harry trading looks out of the corner of his eye. Ugh. Justin  _ hates  _ when people trade looks. “Hey, you two,” he points (oh. he’s holding a bottle. that’s weird. he doesn’t remember picking one up.) waveringly between them. “What’s with you and your looks?” Niall drags his eyes over to where Justin’s finger is pointing but he looks awfully disinterested. He shouldn’t be. These assholes are  _ trading looks. _

“What?” Louis says lightly and only with a little slur. “how devastatingly beautiful we are? ‘Fraid we were born that way.” Harry tosses his long curls as if to punctuate Louis’s point, then dissolves laughing at his own silliness.

Justin leans toward Niall, propping his chin on Niall’s shoulder. “Your friends are weird.” he says.

“Oi!” Liam is offended. “Don’t put me in the with this lot, I’m normal!”

Louis laughs in his face “Oh please!”

And then they’re all laughing, and Justin can’t believe he’s here with these people. They’re so different from the people he used to be friends with. Niall is leaning into his shoulder and he’s just so...warm...and happy….

***

“Fuck.”

Justin wakes up to a blaring alarm with a headache and a lapful of Niall. His first thought, besides that alarms are evil and who the fuck though to set one, is that he really hopes Niall is a heavy sleeper so he doesn't have to come face to face with Justin’s crotch.

“Shit.” Harry is the second to wake up, flailing wildly for the alarm and knocking it off of the nightstand onto the floor where Liam and Louis, who stole the room’s blankets and pillows, are curled up in a little pile. 

“Liaaaaam,” Louis moans, “turn it off.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Niall mumbles. His eyes stay closed and Justin breathes a sigh of momentary relief. He’s rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and reaching for his glasses when the damn thing finally shuts off. A bleary Liam is hunched over it, yawning.

“Time?” Harry asks Justin. He checks his watch.

“We missed breakfast.” this gets a whimper out of Liam, which gets soothing sounds and petting from Louis.

“Might as well go back to sleep.” Zayn says, turning over. That’s what Justin assumes he says anyway, he’s tired and Zayn’s accent is really thick.

“Who the fuck hit snooze?” Liam grumbles. He and Louis have a tiny bicker over it while Harry tries in vain to drag Zayn out of his bed.

“Hey,” Niall says softly, eyes still closed. “You’re gonna miss class if you don’t get up now.” Justin smiles at him. Niall is easily the sweetest out of all of them, despite Liam’s cuddliness and Harry’s dimples. Both of them use their powers for evil but Niall doesn’t.

“Yeah,” he agrees, rotating his hips away from Niall as subtly as possible. “You’re right, let’s go.”

Forty minutes later Justin is late to class, and he’s not entirely sure how it happened. Something else he’s not sure about is that way the guys seemed to have adopted him, walking around him in a loud huddle and dropping him off at his classroom door with casual mentions of seeing him at lunch. 

Niall is the only one who sees his confused look and stops. “You okay mate?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” Justin trails off, unable to figure out what he “just”.

“I know,” Niall smiles at him in that way he has with not only his lips but the depth of warmth in his eyes. “They’re a little…” he trails off with a shrug and a helpless hand gesture. “They like you though. You can sit with us whenever, mate.”

Justin feels himself smiling without meaning do. “For real?”

Niall smiles back. “O’ course. I gotta go, but I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Uh...yeah. Okay.”

And that easily, that quickly, he isn’t alone anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

**_a few months later_ **

“Why do you always call me that?" Justin asks Louis absently. He reaches over and pokes Louis in the back with his foot because he’s too absorbed in his songwriting to have heard the question.

“What?” Louis snaps,waving his foot away. “Call you what, when?”

“Just now, before he left, you said ‘Niall why do you always bring your boy to practice just so he can lay around and do nothing.’”

“So?”

“So you call me ‘Niall’s boy’ all the time. What is that, some kind of inside joke?”

“Fraid so, young Bieber,” Justin makes a face at the name and wishes he’d never told anyone it existed. “Top secret stuff, not allowed to tell you. Right Liam?”

“Nope,” Liam doesn’t even look up from tuning his guitar. “Don’t bring me into this.”

“Can we not do this at practice, please?” Harry snaps, or at least as much of a snap as he can. Justin has quickly learned that a problem with the band is the only thing that can put Harry in a bad mood. That and a fight with Caroline. Harry’s bad moods have been increasing since midterms.

“Bad news guys,” Niall lets the door to the practice room thud closed behind him “We have to audition a new drummer.”

“What the  _ fuck! _ ”Zayn says . Liam’s eyebrows snap down into a fuzzy line.

“I’m so fucking tired of this shit,” Louis growls. Justin scoots a little bit away, out of range of his frustration.

Harry sighs. “Alright, what happened to this one ?”

“Nothing happened,” Niall looks even less happy about what he’s saying than the boys he’s saying it to. “He just comes up to me in the hall and says he quits because we’re a shitty pop rock sellouts. He started an “indie metal” band because he wanted a ‘more authentic sound’.”

The group lets out a collective groan.

Justin almost mentions that he plays drums, but the boys start talking about how they never liked that guy anyway, and going through the names of every drummer they know. This is  _ their _ thing, and even though they all get along now, there are still some things he’s just not meant to be a part of.

Plus, it would suck to get rejected. He’s not even that good anyway. 

It was a stupid idea. 

Besides, he can’t get into extracurricular activities. He’s barely passing English as it is. 

Yeah, stupid idea. Never mind.

+++

“Can I ask you something?” Harry asks that night. They’re in their room, Harry at his desk editing film for his digital photography class, and Justin on his bed typing away.

Justin doesn’t glance up from his English essay. “Yeah, sure.”

“Are you still into Zayn?”

Justin stops typing.

“I wish it wasn’t so obvious.” he says finally.

“It’s not,” Harry says quickly “I just wondered. It’s none of my business though, sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it,” Justin thinks for a second. “I’m not like, trying to date him. I don’t even want to like him. I’m sorry if I make it weird in the group sometimes.”

Harry chooses not to confirm or deny that last part. Instead, he says: “You know he’s a model.”

Justin blinks, taken aback. “Are you trying to help? Because that’s not helping.” Of course he’s a fucking model. Of course.

“Oh, no,” Harry says, grinning. “Not like that. He’s a part of this agency to make extra money, and they do all these ridiculous local commercials, yeah? We have watch parties whenever a new one comes out ad take the piss.” Harry laughs out loud just thinking about it.

And then he drops onto Justin’s bed with his laptop and clicks one of his most-frequent bookmarks. It’s a low quality video of Zayn posing for a local outerwear store with two other thin young people. He’s smiling unnaturally wide and saying things like “You won’t believe how low these prices can go!” in an American accent with a peppy, put on tone so very far removed from his everyday voice. The pain in his eyes is obvious.

“Oh. My. God,” A gleeful smile takes over Justin’s face as he stares at the screen.

“This helps, right?”

Justin hits the replay button. “Definitely.”

***

Justin looks at it this way.

Zayn is a local model and to do that he probably has to be a self-absorbed douche. Sure, he seems perfectly nice in person, but then again Justin can never be around Zayn for very long before his heart starts to beat irregularly and he can feel himself blushing scarlet.

Zayn smokes cigarettes in a leather jacket while he reads poetry on the dorm steps. To make it worse he does it because it’s what he likes to do and not just to look cool, which he does. As a matter of fact, he’s just this side of way too cool for Justin’s taste. 

This is what Justin tells himself when he’s trying to get over what he knows is a hopeless crush.

Unfortunately, fate seems to have other ideas.

One morning late in the semester Zayn is a nervous wreck at breakfast. His hands are covered in ink and his full concentration is directed at the sketchbook in front of him. He refuses to talk, and only eats when Louis physically places a piece of toast into his mouth, which he barely chews. 

Niall must see the question in Justin’s eyes because he explains, “The school paper goes to print tonight. He always waits ‘til the last minute.”

“He’s a writer?” Justin asks in what he hopes is a casual tone. He knows he hasn’t achieved it when Louis raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nah,” Niall says, not seeming to notice. “Or, maybe, but not for the paper. He draws the comic.” 

An artist. A cigarette smoking, cheesy commercial modeling, poetry-reading-in-all-black artist. Mentally, Justin throws up the white flag. Clearly the universe has something against him, because now he’s  right back where he’s started: crushing hard, falling fast, and too dizzy to find the off switch.

***

“It’s not fair,” he wails over the phone to Selena that night. “the universe knows I lose my shit over artsy guys.”

“Oh, trust me, I know.” Justin can just picture her grimace, probably thinking of his disastrously obvious and way-too-intense crush on a Ponytail David.

“I’m screwed. I’m gonna get awkward and weird and fuck everything up. They’ll never talk to me again.”

“Okay, calm down,” Selena says “you’re thinking way too negative. What about just asking him out? He might say yes. And if he says no, you can move on.” 

Justin wishes they were in person so she could see in his eyes how much he hates that idea. “Yeah, or the third option where I ruin the only friendships I have here. No thanks.”

“So you’re just going to keep freaking out and giving yourself stress headaches?”

“Probably.”

Selena sighs. “Well I’m here when this blows up in your face, even though it’s your own dumb fault.”

He smiles, because despite her tone he knows she really means it. “Thanks”

***

 

“What. Are. You. Doing.”

It’s a Saturday night a week or two later in late November and all the guys are hanging out in one of the music hall’s practice rooms, switching back and forth between studying, arguing about drummer possibilities, and actually practicing their music.

Right now they’re all staring at Justin, who has no idea what the answer to that question is. “I’m...doing math homework.”

“No,” Louis continues in a tight, clipped tone, “what were you doing. Just. Then.”

“Um…”

“He means with the pen,” Liam supplies. “you were drumming.You drum?”

“Oh,” Justin glances down at the pen in his hand, silently cursing it’s betrayal. Louis looks murderous. “I know  _ how  _ to drum, but I wouldn’t really say i’m a drummer.”

“Mhmm,” Louis seems to be holding back from strangling him only by Liam’s hand on his shoulder. “and you didn't think that would be worth mentioning given that we’ve spent the last month or so dragging every drummer we know in for auditions? Sitting in front of you arguing for hours on end about it? Thinking about giving up the two biggest gigs we’ve  _ ever had _ \--” 

“Babe,” Liam silences Louis’ tirade, which has been slowly growing in volume. “If Justin didn’t want to tell us that’s his decision.” but he gives Justin the big brown puppy eyes Justin hates, as if asking why he hates them so much. It’s more effective than Louis’ eyes could ever be.

“I wasn’t not telling you guys anything!” Justin protests. “I didn’t even think about it! Not really, anyway.”

“That’s fine,” Harry says, with an expectant look. “Just think about it now.” 

They’re all looking at him. Justin hesitates. “It’s not that I don’t want to...it’s just that this scholarship is really important…” 

“What about just next weekend?” Niall suggests. “You don’t have to ditch school, you’d just be helping us out with this gig.”

“Yes!” The storm clears from Louis’ brow and suddenly he’s excited again. “Come on Mallette, one gig!”

This time, there is no hesitation. “Yeah, okay. Awesome!”

Louis let’s loose with whoops of joy that he forces Harry to join in on. Liam just grins and gives Justin a high five.  Zayn sits back with an outward grin but his insides have gone sour. He has a bad feeling about this.

***

After taking a day to rearrange is his homework schedule - a concept Louis only refrains from ridiculing because he’s doing them a favor- Justin shows up to the next practice all business.

It turns out he can sing his ass off. When he comes in on the harmony, his voice smooth and sweet over the rumble of the bass, they’re all momentarily shocked. The rehearsal lapses into silence for a moment, and then Louis lets out a slow whistle.  Liam’s jaw drops, his eyes lighting up. Harry actually  _ hugs  _ him, nearly impaling himself on the drum kit, and Liam joins in. Niall tries his hardest to grin in appreciation instead of swooning. 

And Zayn stands back and relives the last few moments. The way Justin’s tense caution disappeared when he picked up the drumsticks. The way his shoulders settled low and his elbows swung loose as he counted them off and melded into the song perfectly, like he’d always been there. But most of all Zayn remembers the hitch in his breathing when he saw Justin’s eyes drop closed and his mouth shape the first note. 

He knows instantly that Justin isn’t going anywhere after the one gig, and this is not at all good for his sanity.


	5. Chapter 5

“That was fucking amazing!” Harry is on cloud nine coming off the stage, and Zayn feels it too. They all love music and performing but sometimes it feels like they’re being silly, chasing dreams in a practice room at school. But nights like tonight? When everything goes wrong in soundcheck but they get on stage and it clicks? When they love it and the crowd loves it, loves them? I feels like they could actually make it. They’re not rock gods, but tonight it sure feels like it.

It’s nights like this that Zayn wishes he could freeze, bottle up, anything to not forget one tiny detail or moment. Louis talking a mile a minute as he helps Liam load up the van, euphoric that he just heard someone walk by singing _his lyrics._ Liam smiling at him, just as happy as if it were his own dream in the making. Harry a sweaty, energetic mess pulling Zayn along for the ride. He texts Caroline something with lots of exclamation points, bounds over to hug a guy who casually calls out that he loved their set, grabs Zayn’s arms and pulls him into a silly dance. And he’s not even drunk yet.

Zayn lets himself be pulled, and they goof around until Liam calls them back to the van. Justin is crouched just outside the venue’s side door taking one last piece of the drum set apart so it will fit. He’s lit from behind by the street light, hair falling into his eyes and brow crumpled up in momentary frustration.

“Do you need help?” Zayn calls as they get closer. It comes out of his mouth without him really thinking about it. Justin looks up, sees him coming, and smiles. It sends a rush of warmth from his neck to his cheeks and he can barely look Justin in the eye as he crouches down and helps unscrew some drum-related metal contraption. Their hands keep touching and Justin keeps smiling and Zayn has to look away. When he does, his eyes land on Niall, who is looking at Justin with an even more pathetic version of the dopey look Zayn knows he himself has been wearing. And now he feels guilty for that dopey expression.

“Group hug!” Harry yells as they close the van doors on the last of it. Zayn allows himself to be pulled into the puppy pile but extracts himself as soon as he can. He stands just out of reach of his friends flailing joy and wishes he had a cigarette. Or better yet, an off switch for this hormone fueled stupidity.

“Okay team,” Liam says when they break apart. “We need to head back.”  The boys boo raucously but Liam remains firm, and soon they’re packing themselves into the van pressed up tight together in the one row before the pile of equipment.

The moon is high in the sky, spreading its diamond light like a shower of glitter. It hits Justin just right, lighting up his eyes and hair so for a moment he’s glowing. Zayn looks purposefully at anything else.

The van swerves around a corner and all the boys in the backseat are smushed together to one side, Niall pressed against Harry who’s pressed against Justin with Zayn on the tail end. He tries his utmost to be unaffected by Justin’s warm skin smashed up against his, pressing into him from shoulder to hip to thigh. They all laugh at the ridiculous mess they’re in and Zayn feels Justin’s rumble and hum through his skin. He feels lightheaded. Justin looks to the side and flashes Zayn a bright smile, the traitorous moon lighting that up as well and Zayn curses himself for being helpless to do anything but smile back.

+++

Monday afternoon after class Zayn is loitering at the end of Harry and Justin’s hall feeling like a stalker. He knows that Justin goes to the library after class most days now to focus and get a jump start on homework since the band takes up most of his free time. He waits until he sees Justin leave the room and disappear down the hall.

“Hey Zayn,” Harry is surprised to see him on the other side of the door, but not displeased. He lets his friend come inside and flop onto his bed. Zayn can’t help but glance over at Justin’s side of the room. His bed is a pile of blankets, a guitar leaned up against the headboard and posters of everyone from Beyonce to Tupac on his walls. His desk is the only thing on his side that’s neat though.

Harry doesn’t question Zayn’s presence. They sit in companionable silence on their phones, every once in awhile leaning over to show each other a funny post or video.

“Where’s Justin?” he finds himself asking casually a half an hour later, even though he already knows the answer. The need to say something, even something casual, has been building from his gut to his throat and it had to come out sometime.

“Off doing homework, as usual.” Harry says offhandedly.

He shows Zayn a picture of a puppy in a Yoda costume. Zayn gives it the appropriate amount of attention before asking “Oh yeah? Must be taking a lot of hard classes, the way he studies.”

“I don’t think so, I think he just wants to make his grandparents proud.”

“His grandparents?”

“Oh yeah, the stuff his scholarship doesn’t cover they pay for. He’s introduced them to me on facetime, sweet people.” He seems to find nothing odd about the direction the conversation is being steered, which frustrates Zayn even more.

“Harry,” he says to the ceiling. “I think I’ve got a thing for Justin.”

“Oooooooh.” Harry says, his eyebrows going up in surprise. Then he presses his mouth into a concerned line, making his dimples disappear. “Well that’s...not...great.” he finally says.

Zayn makes a kind of broken whimpering sound to signal his agreement. "I just want to put it out of my head," he says, "but I can’t.”

Harry takes a moment to digest this, then suggests: “Have you tried getting laid?”

“You sound like Louis.”

Harry shrugs “Always helps me.” There’s something a bit off in his voice that makes Zayn look up, momentarily distracted from his own misery.

“Huh,” he says thoughtfully “How are you and Caroline?”

The sparkle in Harry’s eyes dulls. “Hm, no. Let’s talk about something else.”

“Haz-”

“Something like your crush? On our drummer? You know, that guy Niall’s already madly in love with?” Zayn groans and throws his head back onto Harry’s bedspread. He thwaps the back of his skull on a textbook and ups his groaning volume to drown out Harry’s giggling.

When they come down from that, Harry has one more question. “I thought you didn’t like him much?”

“I didn’t!” Zayn hears his voice go into a panicked squeak but doesn’t try to control it because, considering the circumstance, it’s justified.

“You said he was quite boring. What happened to that?”

Zayn shrugs helplessly. “I used to be sane. Maybe he’s drivin me crazy, maybe he’s a fuckin wizard.”

“I’m starting to get that vibe as well,” Harry says thoughtfully. He eyes the mess of guilty sighs and confusion formerly known as Zayn and sets out to do what he’s best at. Distract and entertain.

“This,” he says as he fishes under the bed “Is what liquor stashes were invented for.”

“God bless you,” Zayn says.

They drink to Zayn getting laid, and never falling in love.

+

Getting laid doesn’t _not_ work, but it's definitely not as effective as Zayn had hoped. Partly because the people he sleeps with, while generally very nice, never quite manage to pull his train of thought completely away from his newest obsession.

And partly because Niall can’t seem to pry himself away from his.

Justin goes with them everywhere now. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, study break, rehearsal, nights out and in. They don’t talk much, but whenever he catches Zayn’s eye his skin goes a little pink and he smiles like he can’t help himself. All Zayn can seem to do is smile back, when what he really wants to do is implode. Or better yet, go back to his life before cute boys he couldn’t kiss were constantly dangled just outside of his reach.

And really, there’s no legitimate reason for him to object. He can’t make everyone stop being friends with Justin on the grounds that his eyes are too brown and his hair smells too good. All he can do is feel the fever building under his skin and hope it doesn’t destroy anything when it breaks.

“Okay, new plan,” Harry says on another night when Justin is at Niall’s playing video games. “We get Niall to make a move. Cause you only want him cause he’s just out of reach, right? But if he’s with Niall, like, officially, then you’ll be alright.”

“But what if I’m not,” Zayn points out with only a slight slur “Then I’d just be fucked.”

Harry doesn’t have an answer, so they knock back the last of their drinks on three. They lay squished together on Harry’s tiny single mattress, their companionable silence broken only by the Frank Ocean record Harry brings out just for Zayn. He skips Bad Religion though, because he’s a good friend.

When Justin’s key turns in the lock Zayn swings off of Harry’s bed and is in the hall almost before Justin is completely inside. He mutters a passing “Hi, bye.” and he’s gone

+

So Zayn resolves to put another of Harry’s plans into action.

He’s never appreciated before how difficult it is to get Niall alone. If he’s not with someone in their tight knit group, he’s with any of his many friends that seemingly come from every part of the school. He hangs out with art students, deeply academic types, any and everyone.

For the second time in the same week Zayn finds himself reduced to lurking outside of doors, hoping to swoop in and catch him alone.

In the end Niall comes to him.

It’s another one of those nights where Liam and Louis can’t be without each other for _one more second,_ and because Niall has the patience of a saint he gives up his room in the middle of the night to come bunk with Zayn.

“Oh, I’m no saint,” he contradicts when Zayn gives him a sleepy compliment. “Like rabbits those two. They’ll do what they want whether I’m there or not, I just don’t want to be traumatized.”

Zayn snorts with laughter and turns over to go to bed. He’s almost back to sleep when it occurs to him this might be the best chance he’ll get.

“I’ve got a question,” he says.

“Hm?” from the sounds of it Niall is more than halfway asleep.

“What are you waiting for? Like with Justin?”

“Whaddya mean?”

“I mean, like, why haven’t you asked him out?” It only just now occurs to Zayn that he maybe should have asked this question sooner. Waiting isn’t Niall’s style. He’s the type to see someone cute and approach them immediately. Even when he moons over people he usually asks them out in the end. It’s been much longer than usual with Justin. For a moment he has hope that maybe Niall is over it, and he can be over it too.

“I dunno. Scared, I guess.” The sheets rustle like he’s shrugging.

Now Zayn’s a little more awake. “Scared? Of Justin?”

“This is, like, the first time I’ve gotten to be really, really good friends with someone I felt this way about. He knows stuff about me I’ve never told anyone else, so. I reckon I don’t wanna lose that.”

Zayn blinks into the darkness, trying to piece together this new information about Niall. “Since when do you have secrets?”

“Not really secrets, just. We end up hanging out and getting high and just talking.”

Zayn considers this for a moment. “I guess you and me haven’t really talked in awhile.”

“Been busy.”

“Yeah.” and Zayn thinks the conversation is over. After a minute though, Niall sighs again.

“Just like, when we started out I didn’t even think we were going to be friends. Then I got to know him and he’s so...talented, and smart. And what if I’m honest and I lose him? Can’t risk it. I’ve never felt like this, Zayn. Like I’m so in love I wouldn’t know what to do without it.”

“Love?” It’s the first time Zayn has heard Niall say in love like that. Like it’s just a fact of life, as sure as sunrise.

He is officially the worst friend in history.

“Yeah.” Niall says simply.

“Shit, man. I didn’t know.”

“It feels like everyone knows except him.”

“And you’re not gonna tell him?”

“He doesn’t feel the same way.” he sounds sure of this.

There isn’t much Zayn can say to that. He self-consciously remembers all the times when Justin sends him a special smile, or stares when he thinks no one was watching. He feels ice in his stomach when he thinks about his smiles back or the way he preens a little under Justin’s gaze.

Niall deserves those moments, those warm feelings. He deserves to be loved back.

He falls asleep long after Niall does, wondering what’s wrong with him and pledging to be a better friend in the morning.

***

The next morning is a Sunday. He rolls out of bed before Niall, snatches up some breakfast as soon as the line opens, and dodges everyone he knows in the halls. Instead he goes to his favorite dimly lit corner in the library. He stakes his claim by throwing his jacket over a chair then spends some time just browsing. He knows Harry is on a date, but he also knows he’s always allowed to interrupt those. He curls up in his corner with a pile of books to read but before he dives in he sends out a text.

 _Zayn_ : *ten skull emojis*

_Harry: what now? :(_

_Zayn: im the worst friend in the world_

_Harry: your not!!!!!_

_Zayn: pretty sure i am actually_

This prompts Harry to actually call him, and for a moment Zayn cringes at the thought of him leaving Caroline alone at their table in whatever cute cafe they’re in. Inevitably they will have a fight about Harry’s Priorities and this moment will be brought up as evidence. But the moment passes as soon as he hears Harry’s voice on the other line.

“You’re not,” are Harry’s first words. Zayn can almost hear the furrowed brow.

“He’s in love with him,” he counters. He hears the footsteps of a librarian but he doesn't look up.

“Well, yeah,” Harry says with an unspoken _obviously_ tacked onto the end, as if they’ve all know that all along. “Look, you haven’t done anything wrong.” he pauses. “Except maybe keeping it a secret.”

“What, you think I should _tell_ him?” Zayn hopes Harry can hear the _fuck no_ written on his face through the phone.

“Maybe,” Harry says. Zayn feels a little sick to his stomach just at the idea. “You know Niall wouldn’t be upset if you went out with him."

“You’re right, yeah, he’d just be _heartbroken._ Much better, great idea Harry.”

“What’s your idea then?” Harry says reasonably. “Go on flirting under his nose til he figures it out and ends up heartbroken anyway?" 

And, well. Zayn really doesn't have much to say to that.


	6. Chapter 6

Before Zayn can really make a decision, the term is ending and it’s the Winter holidays. He sees Justin climb into an airport shuttle with Niall while he’s packing and that’s the last he sees of both of them for the next several weeks.

What he learns later is that Justin has a great break. He chills on all his friends’ couches and plays hockey at all the old spots. For Christmas his mom takes him to get a prescription for contacts and his dad gets him a session with a trainer to develop the beginnings of a workout plan.

“So now I can go to the gym with you and actually work out,” he tells Liam excitedly when he gets back. It’s January, the weekend before the semester starts again. They’re all piled into Liam and Niall’s room because it’s the cleanest and has all the video games.

Liam’s eyes light up at the mention of the gym and Louis groans from his spot sprawled across his lap. 

“Great,” he says “Now you’ll get him started nagging us all about our  _ health _ .”

“Exercise is good for you love.”

“Exercise makes me break out.” Louis grumpily responds.

“I might be up for the gym,” Niall speaks up. He’s leaning lazily over the side of his bed playing a game of connect four with Justin, who is in a similar position. 

“Really?” Justin directs a smile at him and Niall’s responding one is filled with all the adoration he clearly feels.

“Yeah,” he says as he bumps their shoulders together. “Been meaning to drop a few pounds for the new year anyway.”

“Any special reason?” Justin asks teasingly. All the boys trade  _ looks  _ but Justin doesn’t notice and Niall pretends not to either.

“Maybe,” Niall says with an exaggerated waggling of eyebrows that makes Justin laugh at his utter ridiculousness. Zayn and Harry catch each other’s eyes and roll them not at all subtly.

“What about you Zayn?” he’s so caught off guard by Justin’s sudden, complete attention that he almost falls off of Liam’s desk chair. He saves it by propping his elbow onto the desk and pretending it was just a sudden need to lean back casually.

“Me?” he says, ignoring Louis obvious snickering. “Nah, I should probably gain some weight actually.”

“You can do that at the gym.” Justin points out

“I’d rather do it in the dining hall.” he says with a smile. Justin gives him a quick, vibrant grin and a short chuckle but then he’s drawn back into conversation with Niall. Zayn tries very hard not to be disappointed, and especially not to let any of those traitorous feelings show on his face. He is not jealous. He’s a good friend and he’s glad Niall has all of Justin’s attention. That’s the way it should be.

He doesn’t look at Harry because that will make  it a lot harder to lie to himself.

He wishes Niall would just get up the courage and  _ ask him already  _ so maybe he can stop feeling so tense. He doesn’t even want a smoke but he excuses himself as if he does and goes to find Leigh-Anne and the girls. At least in a group of lesbians he knows where he stands, and the lonely longing doesn't feel anywhere near as personal.

*

The beginning of the semester sets the tone for the next few months. Zayn is lonely and especially loose with his genitals, Niall is increasingly enamored and either introducing Justin to absolutely everyone or shunning the rest of the world to spend time with him. 

Liam and Louis fight (well, Louis does anyway) and make up and force their roommates to flee in the middle of the night ...or morning...or afternoon. 

Harry is hanging on to every scrap of happiness he and Caroline have left, still deeply enough in love to stay tied to the train tracks, but fully aware of the oncoming train. 

And Justin is shedding the last bits of awkwardness in his new identity. He’s finding the balance between who he used to be and who he’s becoming, between his still-rigorous study schedule and his new social calendar. He and Louis are engaged in a casual prank war, he now counts Niall among his best friends and it seems like Zayn is starting to notice him. Liam is taking on the role of person trainer pretty seriously and he’s starting to see the results.

And so is everyone else.

*

“Absolutely not,” Zayn says flatly. It’s a humid night in the middle of the semester. Zayn and Louis’ room is even more of a disaster than usual because Zayn is in his grooming mode, which means hair products, cologne, and various garments made of leather are strewn everywhere.

“Aw, come on,” Niall pulls out his best pout and puppy dog eyes.

“No,” Zayn stands firm, looking in the mirror at one pair of black trousers and then at another pair that looks exactly the same to Niall. “This is supposed to be a night for us to be two single lads gettin wasted-”

“He’s single!”

“Not for me to drink alone while you two make eyes at each other.”

Niall is momentarily sidetracked. “You think he makes eyes at me?”

Zayn’s eye roll is enough of an answer.

“Come on, Zayn,” He follows Zayn out of his room and into the hall bathroom to plead his case. “If he doesn’t come with us tonight you know where he’s going?”

“Don’t care,” Zayn is already deeply absorbed in his hair routine.

“Nick’s party.”

His expensive bottle of hair gel slams down onto the countertop.“Nick Jonas?”

“Yep.”

“Celibacy club Nick Jonas?”

“Yep.”

“The fucker that slept with the whole swim team plus the mascot?”

“Exactly the one.”

Zayn considers Niall’s desperation in the mirror. Then he thinks about Nick, with his big muscles and charming smile aimed at poor unsuspecting Justin. He picks up his hair gel and goes about his business as if he couldn’t care less either way, but Niall senses victory on the horizon.

When he finally caves and says “I guess he can come.” Niall whoops and tackle hugs him, spilling expensive hair care product all over the counter.

*

When Louis gets wind that not only are his bass player and lead guitarist going to get smashed the night before a big gig, but the drummer as well, he pounces.

“Are you stupid?” he demands when Zayn gets back to their room. He hovers as Zayn ruffles through their shared demolition-zone of a closet. “Tomorrow night’s the biggest gig we’ve ever had. If you lot get fucked up and can’t perform I’m gonna personally  rip the testicales off of each and every one of you.” 

Zayn finds the leather jacket he’s looking for and covers his eye roll by ducking his head as he goes to put it on. Before he can come up with a rebuttal, Louis is continuing.

“Why does it have to be tonight? Midterms are in two weeks, you should be studying,” his eyes light up as an idea occurs to him. “Justin won’t want to miss his studying.”

“Niall said he already marked it out in his homework schedule.” Zayn says. Louis scoffs, clearly disgusted with the concept. 

Zayn looks over his shoe collection critically before picking out several pairs of black boots with barely a difference between any of them. “Haven’t you been out like every weekend since term started?” Louis says, switching tactics.

“Not without you and Liam making out in some corner or fighting at the bar,” Zayn points out. “Or Harry arguing with Caroline on the phone all night then getting shitfaced and crying about it.” They both cringe at the memory. “So yeah,” Zayn slips his feet into his chosen boots and checks out the overall look in the mirror. “Definitely need a lads only night.”

Louis sighs as Zayn grabs his wallet and heads for the door. “Just promise me this won’t screw us up.” he calls down the hall, but Zayn has already gotten into the lift and headed out.

 

 

Zayn doesn’t intend to screw anything up. He keeps this plan firmly in mind and the night starts off great.

They pile into a cab together and head to Zayn and Niall’s favorite spots, introduce Justin to their friends in town. Everyone loves Niall, even the people who hate their preppy school, so there’s no end to the people smiling and inviting them to sit down, have a drink.

They start off with beers and move on to shots and by the halfway mark of the night they’re pleasantly sloppy. On some level they’re aware that they’re the annoying uni boys being way too rowdy but they really don’t care. 

Justin acts like his old self, the one they haven’t seen until now. It’s a bit of a revelation. He’s flirting with everyone he crosses paths with (which makes both Niall and Zayn scowl and Zayn has to remind himself he has nothing to scowl about) and stirring up trouble at the same time. Really, he’s a little too much. Maybe that’s why he makes enemies along with his friends.

He’s obnoxious and adorable and utterly ridiculous, willing to do anything for a laugh, for attention. It’s clear he’s always been meant for a stage, constantly putting on a show. He and Niall do an Irish jig on the pool table after they win and just collapse in giggles when Paul himself comes to tell them to get the fuck down. And sure, Zayn can see how this side of his personality got him kicked out of every school he went to before and landed him in handcuffs on a regular basis. That doesn’t stop him from having to nearly chain himself to the bar when Justin comes in close to him and begs him to dance. If it wasn’t for Niall, flushed and happy behind him, he might have and dignity be damned. 

He has to take a few more shots when Justin starts dancing on a table to a song with a heavy bass and after that there are only flashes and blurs.

 

 

He knows they go to a few more bars after that. He knows he  _ tries  _ to hook up with other people but Justin keeps pulling him back in. He remembers tumbling into a taxi feeling warm and safe, surrounded by friends and laughter. 

Collapsing in his bed.

Someone else falling in next to him. 

The soft click of the other door closing, but he doesn't really notice.

A hunger in those eyes he’d never seen before.

An unsurprising roar of want from within him in response. 

The stickiness of the alcohol, the soft slide of tongues, the warm drag of skin on skin. Clothes getting lost in the sheets, hands dipping low, lips wandering. 

The  _ click  _ of a lock disengaging.

The shock of a door slamming.

Pulling away, 

Clothes in disarray

Heart thudding, panic.

Then all that’s left is regret.

 


	7. Chapter 7

It’s Sunday morning, and Liam wakes up feeling wonderful. He has his day all figured out. He’s going to have breakfast with the boys, then play some video games. A picnic lunch with Louis on the green during which he will broach the subject of meeting Louis’ family next break. After that, rehearsal for the big gig and then the gig itself. Celebratory liquid dinner with the boys. A perfect day.

He sings in the shower and by the time he’s done Niall is still asleep. Strange. Niall usually pops out of bed like a jack-in-the-box. Oh, wait, lad’s night. Must have drank the bar dry, the silly leprechaun. He gives the lump of blanket that is Niall an affectionate pat and nestles a bottle of water next to his pillow.

+

Zayn, on the other hand, is having an awful morning. Or rather, a brighter, more awful continuation of last night. In one night he’s made out with the boy of his dreams and possibly destroyed one of his best friendships. Maybe all of them, once it gets out. Louis is singing in the shower, further agitating his headache. He doesn’t want to get out of bed.

He wishes he could blame anyone or anything else for his actions, but he knows it was his own damn fault. He shuts his eyes against the daylight and pulls his pillow over his head. Maybe that will cut off the images of last night flashing through his mind.

“Nope, none of that!” Louis sing-songs. He rips away the blankets and pillow to douse Zayn in icy cold water. Then he dances out of range before Zayn can actually murder him.

“Come on Zaynie,” he says as he pulls on his clothes. “Time for breakfast.”

+

Niall doesn’t wallow. He doesn’t. But he can’t stop replaying it. The way Justin looked beautiful kissing Zayn, arching into his touch. The way Zayn looked beautiful kissing him back. How beautiful they looked together. Like they belonged that way.

He shuts his eyes tighter and muffles the stupid noise coming up his throat. He just needs to sleep, and when he wakes up he’ll feel okay. He has to.

+

Justin has no idea what’s going to happen at breakfast and it’s making him jitter. On the one hand, _Zayn kissed him back. Touched_ him back. And--in his opinion--they both had a good time.

On the downside, Niall kind of stomped out of the room when they started ignoring him. He feels bad about that, but he’s sure Niall will understand once he explains about the crush he had on Zayn. Had in the past tense.

Hooking up with  Zayn, while amazing as far as drunken makeouts go, confirms that he is nowhere near as lovestruck as he was at the beginning of the school year. Add to that Zayn completely spacing out afterwards and not even snapping out of it when he said goodbye and it’s settled. He knows he doesn’t want that now. Not unbelievable beauty or overwhelming lust. Just a boy he likes, who likes him back and understands him. Someone who makes him laugh. Maybe someone he can make music with. And that person isn’t Zayn.

He feels confident, as he looks at himself in the mirror, that he is over this particular crush. It might be awkward for a little bit, but after all the stories he’s heard about Zayn’s sexual and romantic exploits he’s sure it won’t stay that way for long. He can finally hang out with the boys without anything hanging over his head.

The mood at breakfast quickly divests him of that little daydream.

Louis and Liam are mostly normal, with Liam obliviously lost in Louis’ everything. Usually Louis returns the favor but this morning he’s casting narrow-eyed glances around the table, trying to put together the pieces. Zayn looks like someone has sentenced him to death, slumped over in his seat with his food untouched. Harry has picked up on the vibe and now he’s fidgeting, bouncing his knee up and down and playing with his hair. Niall’s absence is painfully conspicuous.

Justin tries to catch Zayn’s eye to ask the silent question: what the hell is going on? Did they break some kind of unspoken rule? Can there only be two of the group hooking up at once and Liam and Louis have already filled the quota? Is Niall secretly homophobic? This last one is outlandish given the sheer amount of PDA he cheerfully puts up with from Louis and Liam on a daily basis, but Justin is running out of ideas. And Zayn is no help, steadfastly ignoring his gaze in favor of examining his fingernails.

“I guess i’ll just say it,” Zayn says when Louis is five seconds away from relentlessly interrogating him. “Last night we all got completely pissed. Justin and I hooked up.” he practically spits the words out and still refuses to look at anyone.

“Zayn,” Harry says softly.

“Then Niall walked in,” Zayn plows on. “Saw the whole thing. Then he left. So that’s that.” He hangs his head in the silence that follows, waiting. He doesn’t see Harry’s disappointment and pity, Liam’s shock, Louis’ fury, or Justin’s utter confusion.

“Guys, what the fuck is going on?” Justin finally says out loud.

“Good god, Mallette,” Louis snaps, and this is bad. They all know not to speak while Louis is sorting out his anger, he always goes for the brightest target. “If you took your head out of Zayn’s arse for five goddamn seconds you’d _know_ what’s going on and maybe then you’d think before you do shit.”

“Lou,” Harry says wearily. One stone hard look makes him swing his mouth shut and glare at the tabletop.

Justin goes from zero to a thousand in an instant, Louis malice sparking a dormant fire. “What the fuck is your problem?” he snaps back, voice loud enough to be heard over the general dining hall din. “I didn’t do shit to you.”

From there a small tiff spirals downward into an incoherent firefight full of misdirected anger and words they’ll all regret later. Harry hunches over miserably and Liam stands helplessly in between them until Professor Grimshaw arrives and drags them apart.

In the midst of the turmoil, Zayn quietly leaves the table.

+

Harry finds Zayn a bit later in his favorite corner of the library, deep in the stacks of his favorite poets with a notebook open in his lap and three books at his elbow.

“Hi,” he says softly, nudging Zayn’s sneakers with his boots.

When Zayn looks up his eyes are puffy and red. “Hey,” he says.

Harry sinks down into the chair opposite him and stretches out his legs, absently running his eyes over the titles in Zayn’s little pile. “Really thought I’d be the one bringing the drama this morning,” he says casually.

“Why’s that?” Zayn doesn’t look up from his book but he hasn’t turned a page since Harry caught sight of him.

“Caroline and I had a huge fight last night. Broken china, mascara running down the face, all of that.”

“Shit. What about?”

“Ah, ya know. Her parents hate me, I’m too young and irresponsible, my dreams aren’t realistic, on and on and on.”

“I’m sorry.”

Harry just shrugs. “We’ll figure it out.” He spots one of his favorites among Zayn’s and grabs it. They read in companionable silence until a librarian shoos them away at closing time.

“You know,” Harry says as they walk back to their hall under the yellow glow of the path lamps, “You’re beating yourself up harder than any of us are.”

Zayn shakes his head. “Then you aren’t angry enough.”

“You made a mistake-”

“Did I? Or did I see an excuse to do something selfish and take it? Either way, doesn’t matter. I hurt Niall.”

“But-”

“Look, I know you’re trying to help,” he stops walking as they near the warmth and light of their home-away-from-home. “But I just need some time to myself.”

Before Harry can answer he turns on his heel and trudges off into the fading light.

  
  


“I _told_ them not to go out last night,” Louis bursts out hours later. He, Harry, and Liam are all in their reserved rehearsal room anxiously watching the clock tick down. He throws his pen down and doesn’t seem mollified by Liam rubbing his back. “Our biggest gig ever, right outside Paul’s pub, hundreds of people. _Hundreds,_ for chrissakes!”

“Maybe we should cancel.” Harry says reluctantly.

“If we cancel his backup is the Jonas Brothers.” Louis says in a tone of voice that heavily implies he would rather die than allow that to happen.

“You just hate that Joe always hits on me.” Liam says with a sly smile.

“Do not,” Louis allows himself to be momentarily distracted. “I hate them for perfectly legitimate reasons. Like the fact that they all have stupid faces.” They share a laugh over that but soon after the room settles back into uneasy silence.

Ten minutes are rehearsal was supposed to start, Justin arrives. Shoulders tense, eyes guarded, but he does it anyway. A few minutes later Niall walks in. He greets everyone with his usual bright attitude and the ray of sunshine only flickers for a moment when he sees Justin sitting with his head bent over his drum kit. They warm up, they do equipment checks, but there isn’t much more they can do until they find out if they’ll have six people or only five.

Louis’ shoulders fall in relief when Zayn finally slinks through the door. Later than usual, but still there.

Practice is a special kind of torture where they ignore the elephant in the room for the supposed sake of keeping the peace when really it’s just the easiest thing to do. It leads to a general stilted feel to the music but at least, Louis thinks, they’re _playing it_.

With Louis babbling away and everyone else nearly silent they break everything down, load up the van, and hit the road.

 

They're late for the soundcheck but besides that things are fine. Louis worries about this, bounces up and down backstage while the bright outdoor lights flicker to full brightness. They've never had a good gig _and_ a good soundcheck. It just hasn't happened .

“There's a first time for everything.” Liam says, optimistic as always. Louis isn't so sure. As the boys file onto the stage and the crowd takes notice, his fears come true one by one.

Justin swings between two extremes. Sometimes he glances around, carefully monitoring everyone else’s behavior to adjust his own. Other times he seems to snap and works through that frustration on the drums. Luckily, Justin's erratic behavior is nothing compared to Louis more embarrassing meltdowns, they can deal with that. Or at least, they should be able to.

Niall pushes along at a steady pace with his relentless, cheery ‘there’s-absolutely-nothing-wrong’ attitude. In the past he’s always positioned himself at a diagonal angle so he’s still facing the crowd but he can easily glance over, catch Justin’s eye, and share a smile. Now he stands parallel to Harry while they play the songs, his back to the drum kit.

Zayn and his bass stay as far away from both of them as possible. This leaves a strange, lopsided triangle that Harry gamely attempts to navigate. His attempts are mostly unsuccessful.

They aren’t horrible, strictly speaking. They’re not off key or off beat, they remember most of the words and only miss a few cues. But it’s like watching three miserable robots who just want to go home, and a fourth robot with a critically low battery. They sound lifeless.

Louis feels himself start to curl up on the inside as he watches all of his dreams fall apart on the stage. The boys are so wrapped up in themselves that they aren’t even playing to the audience anymore, now out of sync with each other and the crowd.

There are upperclassmen there, music department kids who _know_ them. Locals who go to all the same bars as them and have been at their gigs all year. And new people who have heard all about the great up and comers at St. Marks. People who know nothing about them but are confused as to why Paul would allow this group of screw ups in his pub, he’s usually so good about picking talent.

The only sounds are the vague, directionless ones coming from the stage, and the general shuffle of a bored, uncomfortable crowd. Louis deliberately does not look around for Paul. That’s one reaction he very much doesn't want to see.

Instead, he spots Jade and Jesy in the crowd and they see him at the same time. They aren’t quick enough to hide the pity in their eyes.

He shrugs off the arm Liam tries to put around him, and walks away.


	8. Chapter 8

The next few days are not pleasant. Word has spread in the music department, and then outside of it, that the golden group has lost it’s shine. There are some, like the boys who call themselves ‘The Wanted Men’ who find the news hilarious. Others, like the ‘Mixer’ girls, are confused and concerned.

But their concern gets them nowhere. The boys aren’t discussing it. Even with each other.

Niall floats from social group to social group with an almost manic energy, never settling down or taking a rest. The girls notice the permanent strain in his smile and ask if he’s okay. He looks at Jesy running her hands through Leigh-Anne’s hair and Jade sliding her hand over to tangle with Perrie’s.

“Nothin you could help me with. ‘S not a big deal.” They don’t believe him, but his smile has gotten even more fragile so they don’t press. To the others who only know him on a superficial level, he seems fine. He goes to parties, he smiles, he laughs, he plays guitar. But his place at the boys’ usual table remains conspicuously empty.

Zayn’s is pre-occupied as well. He retreats into himself, his art, and his schoolwork, a silent self punishment. He barely goes to class, eventually prompting the head librarian to gently push him out of his corner and into the daylight. He sneaks back in when she’s not looking

Harry reluctantly fills Justin in on the situation and watches his face crumble when he realizes he made Niall sad. He suddenly decides the trek to the off campus cafe is a much better breakfast option, avoids the music department, and spends more and more time studying alone. He steadily goes quiet again and Harry’s jokes only get a little half smile out of him.

Louis stomps through the campus in a state of confused fury, unsure who to blame or how to fix things. All Liam can do is try to hug him into feeling better, but it doesn’t really work. He stubbornly insists on holding band rehearsal  as usual, but it’s a sad affair with three members missing. Liam and Harry gamely play guitar and work on vocals while Louis scribbles angrily in a corner.

For the first time in two years, theirs is the quietest practice room.

 

This isn’t like Niall. He never lets a rift in the group stay open this long, even if it doesn’t involve him. Zayn is the expert at hiding away, Louis is the king of the cold shoulder, Liam can rain down disappointment like Zeus with lightning bolts, and Harry wields guilt with disturbing precision. But Niall never uses special tactics to get his way. He’s always just been open and honest about how he feels. He’s always the one grabbing a couple of bottles and dragging them all together to work it out. He’s the one who usually shows up after a rough night with a sunny smile and some dirty jokes. They can always count on Niall to lift the mood just by walking in the room.

Not this time. He’s constantly ducking around corners when he sees one of the boys. Blocking calls, avoiding hang out spots, and avoiding eye contact or close seating in classes they share. Mr. Grimshaw’s english class has gotten particularly tense. Even though they all know it’s the only class Zayn truly enjoys, he stops showing up altogether halfway through the week.

Harry isn’t even up to flirting with teachers right now. He looks around at his little fractured solar system and he wishes it was like an old electronic or a snow globe. That he could just shake them all and pop everything back into place, proceed as usual.

But he sees Zayn’s empty seat. He sees Justin’s hunched shoulders. He sees Niall’s loud, deliberate socializing with anyone but them. And he knows there’s no way it will be that easy.

 

And so, two weeks after the disastrous concert, they’ve settled into this horrible new reality. Zayn has perfected his disappearing act, Niall is surrounded by the impenetrable force field of his popularity, and Justin looks so pitiful curled over his desk surrounded by books that even Louis can’t bring himself to physically drag him away.

If Niall is the one who brings them together with kindness, Louis operates with sheer force of personality. And he’s absolutely had enough. Liam and Harry are too sweet. It’s up to him to figuratively and literally get the band back together.

“It’s been two weeks,” he starts when he corners Niall.

“Been busy mate, sorry,” Niall says with a weak smile, looking around for an out.

“Yeah, busy ignoring us maybe. No use looking around, no one’s going to come rescue you.” Niall knows he isn’t lying. Anyone who even thinks about talking to them takes one look at Louis’ face, remembers his reputation, and goes the other way.

Niall finally looks him in the eye. “I’m not ignoring you guys,” he says. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea for me to be involved with the group right now.”

“There is no group,” Louis snaps. “There isn’t anything because half of us are off playing tragic romance novel characters and ignoring everyone else.”  At this, Niall looks a little guilty and Louis softens his tone. “Look, I know we can fix this.”

“I don’t want to avoid you guys,” Niall admits. “I just…I can’t see them together, Lou.” he says the last part softly, as if he’s ashamed.

“You mean Zayn and Justin? Mate, they’re not together. Zayn wouldn’t do that to you.” Niall gives him a look but that only makes him dig in his heels. “Okay, so he did do that. God knows you’ve all forgiven me for worse. But I know he regrets it. And you know he wouldn’t start dating someone he knows you’re crazy in love with.”

The already ever-present red in Niall’s face deepens at the mention of love, but he says nothing.

“Just talk to them,” Louis says. “One of them, both of them, whichever...please?”

“Wow, Louis Tomlinson? Suggesting honest communication?" Niall teases, "you really must miss me.”

“Shut up. Promise me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise. Okay? Now can I  go?”

“You’re dismissed,” Louis says in a put-on posh accent. Niall grins at his stupidity and hugs him quickly before he walks way, looking less tense than he has in awhile.

Louis considers that a victory.

 

Justin nearly jumps out of his skin when a knock at the door jolts him out of his misery cocoon. Besides classes, Harry is about the only person he’s seen these last few weeks. After the whole awkward explanation of why things blew up so badly, even their interactions have become minimal. Harry is quietly, desperately trying to save his relationship with Caroline and only has the barest amount of energy to devote to group drama.

With Harry barely there all he has to do is avoid the library because of Zayn, the gym because of Liam, the music hall because of Louis, and every other place in school because Niall- the damned social butterfly -could be anywhere.

Including in his doorway, apparently. Justin blinks, taken aback. Niall is worrying his lower lip, his eyes downcast. He just stands there for a moment, and Justin’s heart does a strange skittery dance like a panicking mouse.

“Can I come in?” Niall asks. He glances to the side as he says this, and Justin remembers the girls in the room next door. As far as Harry’s hangers on go, they fall onto the more horrifying side of the spectrum, annoying at best and insufferable at worst. And right now the brunette one who always copies Harry’s outfits is hovering outside her door, texting furiously.

“Yeah,” Justin says, coughing when his voice comes out more hoarse than he expected. Niall walks past him and sits down cautiously on his desk chair. Just this small action hurts a little, because before all of this they’d gotten in the habit of flopping onto each other’s beds without a second thought. He supposes that comfort in their relationship won’t be back for a while, if ever.

Niall doesn't look at him, concentrating instead on the trinkets on his shelf, his guitar and picks. Justin shivers a little, uncomfortably aware that he’s only wearing basketball shorts now that he’s no longer in his blanket shelter. He sits down on the bed and pulls the first one he touches around his shoulders, and then they sit in silence again.

“I’m really sorry,” Justin says when he can’t take it stretching out one second longer. “Man, honestly, I get if you’re mad. I totally broke the bro code. You have every right to be pissed.”

Niall is just looking at him, head cocked the side, so he elaborates. “I should have known, with everybody else already having somebody, I should have guessed you and Zayn had a thing. I don’t even really know how it happened but I swear it won’t happen again--”

“Justin,” Niall says, and it’s as effective as if he’d used a muzzle. “What did Harry tell you?” He has an odd look on his face, somewhere between frustration and laughter. Not exactly the look Justin would expect from a guy who’s been betrayed by his friend and almost-boyfriend, but Niall never does what Justin expects him to. It’s one of his favorite things about him.

“He told me about you and Zayn,” Justin explains.

“Right,” Niall says, and now his face is definitely more toward the laughter side. “He said those words? He said me and Zayn were a thing?”

“Um,” thinking back, he isn’t quite sure. His short attention span coupled with Harry's affinity for rambling run-on sentences means they often have a block in their communication. He only really remembers the distinct impression he’d gotten from Harry’s words. “I don’t know if he said that exactly. He was talking about soul mates and quoting old rock songs a lot. But I got the gist.”

“Zayn and I aren't a thing, mate,” Niall says, watching his face. Then his hint of a smile disappears and his eyes travel downward and sideways as he continues to speak. “I was upset when I found out you two hooked up because...I’ve fancied you for awhile now. Since before we met, actually. And I would have told you, but I felt like I didn’t have a chance so it was better to just get over it.” He glances up while he says this but Justin knows all he sees is shock. “Then...apparently I wasn’t over it yet. I thought you two were going to get together and I just...couldn't be there for that. So. You don’t have to be sorry, I’m sorry.”

“We didn’t,” Justin says quickly. “We’re not.”

Niall nods. Then they’re both silent as Justin tries to process what he’s just heard. “I have no idea how I feel,” Justin finally says.

“Do you feel like being friends still, at least?” Niall asks, looking hopeful. As if there’s any way Justin would say no.

“Dude, _hell_ yeah.”

They grin at each other, and then Niall is grabbing Justin’s guitar and showing him part of a song he’s just written, and the heaviness on Justin’s chest lifts. He can breath again.

 +

“...so it was all a big mix up and they’re friends again!” Harry sounds delighted with himself for sharing this news. He feels less delighted when Zayn’s face doesn't immediately mirror his. He watches Zayn’s fingers travel across the bookshelves, looking for something in the poetry section that he hasn’t read yet.

“I'm glad they made up,” Zayn says, sounding genuine. Harry cocks his head to the side, waiting. “But I can't come back.”

“Why the hell not?” Harry demands, Louis’ influence shining through in his tone.

“Niall is one of the best people I know,” Zayn says, voice low and muted, eyes staring unseeingly at the fading library carpet. “He’s never done anything to hurt me, he never would. He made me talk at orientation and now I know all of you…And then this is the fucking shit I do. The one person he has proper feelings for...”

“Zayn,” Harry says patiently, and slowly the way he says everything. “Look mate you just, you’ve got—I know you feel like shit but you can’t whip your own back over it,” Zayn does not look at all convinced, so he continues. “We’ve all done shit things. When Louis and I shared a room he would spend nights on the floor outside because I’d brought someone over without asking. I locked him out like five times. Niall accidentally talked Josh into breaking up with Liam, remember? And remember how judgmental Li used to be? And I mean, shit. Louis.”

Zayn laughs without meaning to at the weary sigh wrapped around Louis’ name. Harry smiles and they go quiet for a while.

“I just really,” Zayn says softly. “ _Really_ don’t know what to say.”

“Just say whatever you can,” Harry says “Just say _something._ He’ll understand, they both will.”

“What if they don’t?”

“Then you can build a hermit cave in the library and write sad poems and hiss at the light all you want. I’ll bring by some sweets every once in awhile.”

“Well alright then,” Zayn says. He laughs, but it’s edged with a little mania. “It’s a deal.”

 

“This is a scouting mission,” Louis reminds Harry later that night. They’re huddled under the first floor stairwell, occasionally peeking out and causing the girl at the front desk to roll her eyes. It might not have been strictly necessary for Harry to snatch (aka fumble and tug) Louis out of the hallway but it _was_ very fun. Then, of course, Louis took over and now they’re both too caught up in their little world to care what the front desk girl thinks.

“Roger that,” Harry says solemnly. “Or, erm. Copy. Whatever.”

“We’ve been tasked with finding out if Songbird and Leprechaun will be receptive to the Raven’s message. Stop giggling, agent!” this last command only serves to make Harry’s giggles more obnoxious.

They duck and weave around corners, pointing finger guns in the faces of random peers and cackling like mad. They only get slightly more serious when they reach Harry and Justin's room, only to find out he isn't there.

One of the girls down the hall, Cheryl, asks who they're looking for. She's a pretty brunette and she and Harry eye each other until Louis interrupts. Honestly, he should be sainted for dealing with Harry’s ridiculous bouts of heterosexuality.

“Focus up, agent,” he snaps “We’re on a mission.” Harry tries to roll his eyes and look cool but he just ends up giggling again. Disgustingly, Cheryl looks even more enamored with him.

“I think he went with Zayn to the painting room,” she says, pointing vaguely with her chin. Louis drags Harry away before he can collect a phone number and they leave the dorms. On their way across campus they morph from secret agents into master detectives. They take turns peering through an imaginary spyglass and saying “Elementary!”

Through expert and foolproof detective work they find Zayn alone in the art hall’s painting studio, painting something that takes up  good portion of the back wall and  looks like a comic book studied Picasso. He’s bobbing his head to music as his hands travel smooth and slow over his work, not even noticing when colors drip onto his clothes.

Harry swoops in from the left, dropping his chin on Zayn’s shoulder while Louis swoops in from the right and snatches out his headphones.

“Argh!” Zayn shouts as his music is interrupted and something pointy pokes into his neck. He only avoids spilling his paint by years of practice.

“Oooh, it’s beautiful,” Harry says right next to his ear. Zayn rolls his eyes reflexively, because Harry says that about everything he makes. Even his notebook doodles of genitalia.

“Where’s Justin? Did you talk yet?” Louis demands.

“How did you find me?” Zayn slings his earbuds around his neck and puts his brush back on the canvas.

“Followed the clues,” Louis says with a self-important air. Zayn looks at Harry.

“Cheryl told us,” he says. He reaches out one hand, just hairs away from actually touching the canvas. “I mean it, this is really beautiful.”

“I know you mean it, Harry.”

“But you don’t believe me!”

“Excuse me,” Louis says loudly. “This isn’t why we’re here.”

“Oh,” Harry says as he pulls his hand back. “Right. Do you know you put you and Niall and Justin in this?”

This gets Zayn’s full attention. His head snaps back around to stare at it. “What are you talking about?”

“Look, right there. Niall’s the yellow waves. And you’re those black spots, and Justin’s in the red lines.” Zayn and Louis stare at him, but he just shrugs. “Fine, don’t believe me.”

“The point is,” Louis says, drawing the attention back to him. “It’s nearly midterms. If you two haven’t worked it out I might have to get tough with you, Malik.” The silence after he says this makes it clear that nothing has been worked out, and Louis lets out an angry sigh.

“Lou-” and Zayn looks like he’s about to get mopey again, and that will just make Louis angry again, and nothing will be solved. Harry decides to take action.

“Zayn,” Harry takes him by the shoulders and bodily spins him so they're facing each other. “We’ve been over this. It’s not a teen soap. It doesn’t have to be this complicated.” He refuses to break eye contact and Zayn finally has to look away.

“I hate it when you two go good cop bad cop.” he says.

“I better be the bad cop.” Louis warns.

An eye roll. “Of course.”

“Talk to them,” Harry says. He wraps Zayn’s shoulders in a hug.

“Talk to them.” Louis says with a friendly slap on the cheek.

“Okay, okay, I will,” Zayn says. “Tomorrow.”

“Tonight!” Louis protests.

“Whenever you feel ready,” Harry counters. “But yeah, tonight would be better.”

+

The detectives follow Zayn’s clues and find Justin nestled in a study carrel on the library’s top floor. Louis throws himself across the desk behind Justin’s laptop but on top of his notes and highlighters, causing a cringe-worthy clatter. Justin glares at him but he only smiles angelically in that way that has always made Liam blush. It has the same effect in this situation.

It’s Harry’s turn to roll his eyes as he hands Justin the pens that scattered.

“So,” Louis says.

“How’d it go with Zayn?” Harry asks.

Justin shrugs, pausing his third consecutive listen of _Watch the Throne_. “It..went, I guess? We walked over, he dropped me off here, and he left.”

The boys stare expectantly.

“...soooo we’re pretty much back to normal.” Huffs and sighs are the response.

“This is why women hate us,” Harry says to Louis.

“This is why _everyone_ hates us,” Louis corrects him. He sighs down at Justin. “You’re both very lucky you’re pretty.”

“Don’t judge me!” Justin snaps back. “Niall told me about how you and Liam act when you fight, so don’t act like you’re the feelings expert.”

“At least we don’t need divine fucking intervention before we work it out!”

“Are you calling yourself God?” Justin says. “Because that’s not cool.”

“I’m getting a headache.” Harry announces.

“You and Caro-” the air goes still and Justin stops himself. “It’s not like you’re better than us either.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says, though he won’t meet their eyes. He brightens a moment later and asks “But you talked to Niall, right?”

The grin breaks over Justin’s face without his permission. “Yeah, we’re definitely cool now. He, uh. Likes me.”

Again, the expectant stares.

“Right. You guys knew that. Well, I didn’t. So that was...yeah. But we’re friends again, so it’s all good.”

“Illuminating.” Louis says flatly.

Justin shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know, man! There isn’t much else to say. I mean, obviously I love Niall. But not like that.”

“Oh,” Harry can’t help looking disappointed.

“I mean how would I even know?” He continues, looking back and forth between them as if they can tell him. “Like, I care about him. A lot. I mean he’s a great guy. But I just, never, like. Thought of him...like...that. Like, at all.”

“But you don’t know for _sure_ ,” Louis clarifies. “Right?”

Another deep shrug.

“Probably best to figure that out.” Harry says.

“And don’t say anything to him til you do,” Louis says, and glares at him until he agrees.

+

That night, the detectives meet up with the girls for drinks in the park, as is their semi-usual ritual.

“Thank God,” Jesy says when they finish their tale of the day’s adventure.

“They were starting to make me sad,” Leigh-Anne agrees, resting her head on Jesy’s shoulder.

“And I’m sick of being the goddess of wisdom around here,” Jesy announces. She’s a few cups in at this point. “It’s time you boys learned to sort out your own bullshit.”

“Maybe let me have some, babe,” Leigh advises, laughing. She takes the bottle of red and gestures towards the boys as she re-fills her cup. “She’s right though. Glad we didn’t have to take point on this one.”

“Since when do you two ‘take point’.” Louis scoffs.

“Well, Jade and Perrie help,” Leigh says.

“All the fuckin time,” Jesy crows. She points at Louis. “You. Liam. Got together ‘cause of _us._ We threw the party, supplied the tequila, and started the seven minutes in heaven. You’re welcome.”

Harry snickers as Louis rolls his eyes.

“And you,” Jesy’s eyes may be unfocused but they’re still fiery in the fading twilight. “Who introduced you to Caroline? Who taught you how to sneak in and out of the dorms? Us!”

“Mostly Perrie, to be fair,” Louis corrects.

“Us!” Leigh steals her drink and they tussle over it, eventually dissolving into giggles.

“You two are adorable,” Harry says, a little misty eyed. Louis subtly takes the drink out of his hand.

“We know,” Leigh says. She plants a soft kiss on Jesy’s lips and they smile into each other’s eyes. Louis rolls his.

“Why is it that you lot get to be a disgusting couple but I’m not allowed to bring Liam?”

“Maybe because we know how to keep our tongues to ourselves for longer than ten minutes at a time?” Jesy muffles her laughter in Leigh’s shoulder and Louis throws a grape at them.

Soon, their mature adult picnic is a sunset food fight.


	9. Chapter 9

True to his word,the next day, a Thursday morning In mid-March, Zayn waits for the impossible-to-find moment where Niall is alone. Which means he appears around a corner as Niall’s rugby buddies leave for class and falls into step with him before someone else can latch on.

“Hey,” Niall says, bright eyes and wide smile like nothing happened. “I was wonderin about ya, haven’t seen ya around.”

“I needed to say I’m sorry,” Zayn says, in such a rush that he’s sure Niall can barely understand him. “I’ve been a shit friend and selfish as fuck and I’m really really sorry.”

“No worries mate,” Niall says, easy as anything.

Zayn stops. “That’s it? I hook up with the guy you’re in love with and it’s just, ‘no worries’?”

“Hm?” Niall turns around “Yeah, it’s fine, come on.”

They’ve been walking through the science building for a few minutes, Niall speaking to nearly everyone they pass, before Zayn gets his thoughts together enough to speak again. ”I might have been overthinking it a little bit.”

“Yeah,” Niall agrees, grinning. “It’s alright though. That’s what we love about you, that you care so much.” He pulls Zayn into a sideways hug, and soon they’ve fallen back into their old rhythm.

They reach the door to Niall’s next class and he groans.

“Wanna skip?” asks Zayn.

“Hell yeah.”

So they do.

 

“You know you could have just told me.” Niall says as he passes the joint back. They’re laying by the pool at an apartment complex they don’t live in with their jeans rolled up and their feet submerged. The greasy remnants of a slaughtered pizza outlines them like police chalk.

“Hm?” Zayn tears his eyes away from a girl with long brown legs and refocuses on the conversation. “Told you?”

“That you had a thing for him. I would have understood.”

“Knew you would, that just made it worse.”

Niall nods.

“How’s it going with him, anyway?” Zayn asks after a while.

“Whad’ya mean?”

“Are you guys together?”

“Nah,” Niall just shrugs at Zayn’s surprise. “I don’t think he feels that way about me. I’m just gonna have to get over it. That or wank myself raw.”

Zayn’s face twists involuntarily. “Ugh,” he says.

“It’s the truth!”

“Then here's to both of us getting over it.”

They clink imaginary glasses in the air and settle back into the sunshine until someone from the office comes down to yell at them.

 +

The actual talk between Justin and Zayn is quick and to the point.

“Sorry,”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I should have-”

“-I shouldn't have-”

“It's okay.”

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

 

And they are. That Friday they all show up for breakfast . It feels weird after almost three weeks of being fractured but they find their rhythm by the time the dining hall stops serving waffles.

 Zayn slips back into his classes like he hasn't been MIA for weeks, answering every question he's asked with ease.

 Harry is once again the group member with the most drama as he and Caroline go back and forth between on the rocks and madly in love.

 Band rehearsal goes back to normal. They pledge to never again let personal drama get in the way of the music. Or, as Louis puts it “That was the cock-up of the century, lads, and if it ever happens again I'll kill us all.”

 With this agreement in place, their sound clicks again. They write some new songs and start booking gigs again.

 Niall and Zayn suffer silently as Justin continues to, as he puts it, “get swol”.  Of course their suffering isn’t quite the same. For Zayn, Justin is a really hot friend he can’t sleep with. For Niall, well. The “get over it” tactics haven’t been working, so he resigns himself to lifetime of this torture and prays Justin takes his  time finding someone new.

  
Finals approach and throw all of them into a frenzy. Zayn disappears into the library for actual academic reasons. Louis and Liam have more petty, stressed-fueled fights than usual but that just means their sexcapades get even more annoyingly frequent.

 Niall and Zayn takes turns trekking miserably down the halls for somewhere quiet to sleep.

 +

A semester highlight comes on a night in mid-April. They’re all piled in Harry and Justin’s room under the pretense of studying, but really they all take pictures of Justin and Zayn’s notes and then start drinking.

 There’s a knock on the door and when Justin opens it they all trade looks. It’s the girls next door, Harry’s fan  club. A tall, curvy singer named Dinah and a stunning but intense beauty named Lauren. They had all agreed the girls were quite attractive until they’d noticed the cameras, frenzied note-taking, and outfit copying.

 “Hey guys,” Dinah says, nodding at all of them. “Harry, we just have a few papers for you to sign. And we bought you some cookies as a thank you.”

 Justin turns back to the boys with wide eyes and sees the same expression staring back at him. Louis, off to the side with Zayn mouths _poisoned!_ And pantomimes dropping dead.

 As the other boys muffle their laughter it’s, predictably, Liam who asks the important questions. “What papers?” he says.

 Lauren turns her dazzling sea blue eyes on him and he blushes. “Hi Liam,” she says with a smile. “Just the papers confirming Harry’s consent to be the focus of our case study. We did a yearlong project on the effects of toxic masculinity on young adult male social interaction.” she smiles at Harry. “It sucks that we didn’t get to sit down and talk more.”

 “Yeah,” Dinah agrees. “We wanted to do way more interviews but you’re just so busy! Anyway, do you want the cookies?”

 Harry shuffles forward helplessly like a zombie on puppet strings. He signs the papers wordlessly and accepts the cookie tin they place in his hands.

 “Thanks Harry! Bye Harry! Good luck on finals!” and they’re gone.

 Harry contemplatively takes a chocolate chip cookie out and bites into it. “Not a fan club then,” he says.

 They can’t take it any longer. The boys fall over themselves laughing.

 

 

“Ah, there he is, our local celebrity,” Louis says at the next night's rehearsal. Harry just smiles, as if his good-natured attitude might stop Louis from teasing him about this until the end of time. Zayn’s entry, just barely on time, is what really saves him. Louis can’t focus on zingers when he has an announcement to make.

“So, as you all know, I’m the best combination manager and songwriter any band has ever had since the beginning of time,” he begins.

 “Sure,” Liam says, and the other boys nod and mumble their assent.

 "And I take that job very seriously. So the next gig i’ve booked for us...is at Paul’s.”

 “Really?” Liam says, too surprised to veil it properly,“ _Paul_ booked _us_?”

 “Fine” Louis says “It’s the open mic night. But still!”

“I’m just surprised he’s letting us within fifty feet of the place,” says Zayn.

 "Well, he is,” Louis says “And we’re _going to redeem ourselves_.” He stares down the room as if daring someone to doubt him.

“Okay then,” Justin says after a beat. “Let’s do this.”

 “Maybe we should do some old faithfuls,” Zayn suggests “Remember Fireproof? We could revamp that.”

 “Definitely,” says Harry. “Or what about Little Things?”

 “Strong,” Liam pipes up, “We should definitely do strong.”

 Niall picks up his guitar. Louis grins and starts scribbling.

 +

Paul always holds big-ticket events right before finals, well-knowing everyone needs to take their minds off of their impending dooms. He also knows stress drinking drives up sales but that doesn’t go on the bright, happy flyers. Add to that the either triumphant return or trainwreck on crack that is the school’s favorite pop rock band? No wonder he’s grinning behind the bar.

 “Babe, you’re being a bit paranoid,” Liam says when Louis hisses this theory at him as they set up onstage.

 “I’m not!” Louis snaps. Liam kisses him right underneath his ear and decides not to argue. His main goal of the night is heart attack prevention..

 “Li,” Justin starts talking immediately after barreling into his chest, as if that’s how all conversations are supposed to start. “Idon’tknowificandothislikewhatifiactuallycan’tdothiswhatifit’sallabigmistake-”

 “Ssssshh.” Liam wraps his newest friend into what Niall calls his “papa bear” hug until he feels the tension in Justin’s limbs drop in defeat. Either because his hugs are just that good or because Justin has simply given up fighting it, he doesn’t know. Either way, goal achieved.

 “It’ll be fine,” he says as he pulls back. He pats down the ruffled bits of Justin’s newly-platinum blonde hair. “Now go back to the other boys. Louis is down that way and you’ll kill each other, the state you’re both in. Go.”

 “Justin’s never nervous,” Harry’s long lanky body peels away from the wall at the back of the bar limb by limb and he falls into step with Liam a few minutes after Justin leaves.

 “Yeah, huh, weird,” Liam says between huffs. He looks meaningfully from Harry to the equipment he’s holding and back but his friend is just staring out into the distance.

 “It’s starting to make me nervous,” Harry admits.

 “Oh dear God, please no,” Liam says out loud before he can stop himself. Harry’s head swivels toward him, curls on a second delay and eyes wide.

 “What’s that supposed to mean?”

 “Nothing, Harry.” Liam says, while silently remembering the tear-and-vomit-full nervous-Harry days of the early band. He sighs. “Just help me with this stuff, yeah?”

 “Oh, sure,” Harry says. He sounds surprised, as if he genuinely hasn’t noticed the existence of the equipment until now. Liam sighs again.

 Time stops ticking at some point and instead starts barreling forward shamelessly. Soon the bar is full and so is the outdoor staging area , everyone all riled up and a little buzzed to start. The floodlights shine down harsh on the rickety stage, only softened by the fuzz at the edge of everyone’s vision.

 The Rushers go on first, an unlikely pairing of four boys that couldn’t be more different. Louis is momentarily distracted from his nerves by James, a man just under his boyfriend, Zayn, and Harry on his list of prettiest people. Liam stands behind him and glowers every time James sings their way. As their set comes to an end Louis realizes James is singing at Liam and not at him. Then it’s his turn to glower.

 Mixer goes on next in their all faux-leather, plaid, and platform boots. Leigh grabs her bass, Jade her guitar, and Perrie takes the lead mic as Jesy grabs her sticks and counts them down. Liam and Louis support them from the crowd while the other boys bunch up backstage and holler as much as they’re allowed. The girls are starting off with “Hair”, a pop punk lesbian feminist anthem that breaks up with all men and has the crowd absolutely loving them.

 “Proud of you,” Louis tells Jade as they come off the stage.

 “Thanks, we kicked your arse.” she says with a kiss back.

 Then The Wanted Men are up, and that means it’s time for the boys to huddle. They’re up next. Also, they really don’t like those guys and try to disrespect them as often as possible.

 “Okay,” Liam says into their little circle, because Louis is wound too tight to do anything that wouldn’t end in them getting thrown out. “We’ve practiced for this. You guys are ready, the people are on your side, you can do this.”

 “I’m glad we’re back,” Harry says.

 “I’ve missed you lot,” says Zayn.

 “We’ve got this,” says Niall.

 “I think I’m gonna hurl,” Justin says with equal conviction. Niall squeezes him into a sideways hug and he looks a little better, but not much.

 It doesn't go completely silent when they step on stage, of course not, but the noise does drop down a few notches. Louis and Liam stare at their boys, both of them nervous until Justin raises his sticks, Harry steps to his mic, and Niall strikes the first chord of “Girl Almighty”. After that it’s clear there’s nothing to be nervous about.

 Their energy is at a ten and soon the audience is right there with them. The best thing about their band, Louis has always thought, is how much fun they have. The boys are in sync, grinning at each other and dancing around the stage. Soon the crowd is dancing and some of them are singing along.

By the end, Louis and Liam can barely contain themselves. Harry is the last one off the stage, thanking the crowd and saying goodnight. That means Louis has time to climb up onto a speaker and ambush him as he walks off, tackling him and throwing them both into the pile of boy that’s already beside the stairs.

 “I’m so proud!” Louis is crowing into Harry’s ear.

 “Okay, okay, break it up,” Paul’s voice booms. “Come on Mallette.”

 “Mallette?” Louis asks. He looks at Liam, who smiles back like he has a secret. That sneaky bastard.

They all roll out of their pile, Zayn checking for broken bones, and watch as Justin grabs his acoustic guitar and stands next to the stage.

 “You going solo on us?” Niall asks.

Justin grins, but it looks a little wobbly. “You’ll see.”

 “What is he doing?” Louis hisses into Liam’s ear as they head back out into the crowd.

 Liam just smiles and kisses him on the cheek. “Watch and see.”

 They meet up with the girls and grab some drinks while Paul announces the solo musician lineup. “And first up, stepping out from behind the drum, it’s Justin Mallette.”

He steps onto the stage looking a little like he wants to run in the opposite direction. He searches the crowd until he spots the boys. His eyes find Niall’s and then he steps up to the microphone.

 “Hey everybody,” he says. “My names is Justin, like Paul just said, and I’m up here because I spent way too long thinking love had to be this one thing. And it turns out it’s different for everybody. And what love is for me is when I hate the whole world and I don’t want to see anyone, that one person I still want to be with. So, um, Niall?”

 “Oh my god,” Louis and Niall say at the same time, and Liam and the boys are grinning and so are the girls. Niall looks a bit like proof of gravity, as if he really should be floating above everyone’s heads. His grin has taken over his face and now Justin is blushing and grinning too.

 “This song's for you. I know there’s been a lot of drama so there’s no pressure and um, actually, it’s called No Pressure. So.” and with that he stars strumming his guitar and singing a song about getting a second chance, as if there’s a universe where Niall even thought he needed one.

 Halfway through the first chorus Niall can’t take it anymore. The crowd parts for him as he makes for the stage. A smile breaks over Justin’s face as he sees him coming and he seems to decide his song only has one verse and a chorus, because he slings his guitar onto his back and meets Niall halfway. They fall together into an adorable mess of a first kiss, clinging to each other and unable to stop smiling as the crowd cheers around them.

 They’re friends surround them, and they don’t really care about whoever is going on next.

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished something before uploading!
> 
> Edit: I turned chapter ten into chapter one of the zayn/harry follow up to this fic. It's called Only When I Look Into Your Eyes :)
> 
> Also I imagine the acoustic version of "No pressure" in this song as much less dramatic than the actual tune.
> 
> Please let me know what you think with a comment! Thanks so much if you read all this :)))))


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